Page 33 of The Breakdown

She brought up the listings and let Vaughn read them over. She’d done a surprisingly good job considering she knew nothing about ranching. “They’re great,” Vaughn said. “Only add this to this one.” And she rattled off more of a job description and Natalie typed it up. When she finished, she showed Vaughn the sites she was going to post them to. “I also thought that maybe we should print them up so you could take them and post them at places you frequent. Like the feed store and tractor supply, etc.”

“Okay, sure. Good idea.”

Natalie sent the pages to Gram’s new email so Vaughn could download them and print them in the house.

They sat in silence after that with the air heavy between them, and Vaughn could feel the electricity of a mutual attraction. Natalie kept looking at her with her captivating eyes, while brushing her dark bangs away from her face. It was obvious that she wanted to speak, but she seemed at a loss for words. Vaughn, too, didn’t know what to say. She stood once again.

“I better go.”

Natalie joined her and they walked toward the door.

“Thanks for coming by to look.”

Vaughn gripped the doorknob. “Thanks for all your hard work. What do I owe you?” She was eager to pay her, to even things out. Natalie had done her such a favor, and she’d done a damn good job at it to boot. Vaughn dug in her back pocket for her wallet. She opened it and began leafing through her cash. A website fee wasn’t in the budget, but she’d have to sacrifice. They really needed the website and this new one would bring in some much-needed business, she was sure of it.

Natalie covered Vaughn’s hand with her own and lowered it along with the wallet.

“No charge,” she said softly.

“I need to pay you something. You did such a good job.”

“No, really,” Natalie said. “You don’t owe me a thing.”

“But you did me such a big favor.”

“And like I said, you’re doing one for me. We’re even.”

“You—sure?”

“Positive.”

Vaughn closed her wallet and slipped it back into her pocket. She opened the door.

“I’ll join you as soon as I post those job listings,” Natalie said.

Vaughn nodded. Then she gave a small smile and walked out into the bright, morning sun.

Chapter Thirteen

Titus “Tito” Alvarez waited quietly in the doorway of Allen Brewer’s home. It was a large house by normal standards, fancy, the kind of house rich white men seemed to prefer, but Tito knew he nearly dwarfed the massive front door with his size. Something that gave him great comfort.

“Tito, good to see you,” Allen said, trying to give him an embrace. Tito stood very still, and Allen drew away, forcing a smile. “Come in, come in.” He waved him inside and walked to the wet bar in the living room. Evening had set in already, sunset coming earlier now that it was September, and Allen had yet to switch on the main lights, so the room was backlit only in blueberry accent light. He fumbled with two tumblers, as if he were nervous, and began pouring himself a little Petron Tequila Burdeos Anejo.

“Tequila?” he asked, as if Tito couldn’t read the bottle. “It’s the good stuff.”

Tito walked slowly into the room and stood next to a chair. He didn’t answer, just flexed his fists, making the tattoos on his forearms dance. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind the bar and took in his large head with a tight flat top haircut, pock-mocked cheeks, and a neck the size of most men’s thighs. His eyes were what got to people though. They always had. They’d been described by some as dead eyes.

“Okay, one glass of the good stuff, coming right up.” Allen poured him a generous helping, despite Tito’s silence on the matter. He rounded the bar to hand it to him and sat on the sofa and crossed his legs to sip from his own glass. “Please, sit.”

Tito stared him down as he sank into the chair across from him.

“Bet you’re wondering why I called.”

Tito didn’t respond. He knew what was up. Nico Fitz had filled him in on Allen’s missing wife, despite Allen have gone around him to contact Tito. But one couldn’t keep much from Nico. The man seemed to know all. And Allen would be wise to remember that.

“I have a job for you,” Allen continued. “An important job. I need you to find my wife. She’s, uh, taken it upon herself to skip town, you see. And that’s unacceptable.”

Tito sat very still, staring at him. Then he swallowed his tequila in one big shot. Allen blinked at him. “Would you like another?”

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